


Dark Deeds Don't Matter

by intensedreams



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Enchanted Forest, F/F, Soulmates, True Love, and emma is a charming, but is honest about it, noncon is discussed, regina is a shit head
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-08
Updated: 2018-09-08
Packaged: 2019-07-01 17:54:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15779112
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/intensedreams/pseuds/intensedreams
Summary: Emma, Princess of the White Kingdom has heard stories all her life about the Evil Queen. Finally, she has realised that the character that every parent loved to scare their children with still lives secluded in a castle in the woods. Emma is out to gain glory for herself- by killing the Evil Queen of legend.





	Dark Deeds Don't Matter

**Author's Note:**

  * For [DamaLasi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DamaLasi/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Dark Deeds Don't Matter [Fanart]](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15804180) by [DamaLasi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DamaLasi/pseuds/DamaLasi). 



> I have been nurturing this idea for a million years and i don't know if i did it justice.  
> In this setting, Regina never performed Rumple's curse, and instead killed him years before. The timeline is hazy and i'm leaving it that way for reasons i'm not explaining right now :D Emma therefore grows up with her parents in the enchanted forest and is not a pampered princess cos that is *not* the Emma Swan i know and love.  
> I didn't request a beta and that was dumb of me but i read this over a bunch of times as did my wife so i think we have caught everything.  
> Also, thanks to my artist DamaLasi, i've enjoyed working with you and i love the effort you've put into making art for this story :D

A young girl read, crossed legged and curious -

 

_Soulmates. Soul-bound to each other, blessed and cursed by fate, cannot physically harm one another, no matter how sharp the weapon or skillful the wielder or powerful the intention. Rarer than rare. Here follows the story of Erica and Lorelai._

 

Emma cradled the old book where she sat in the deep window nook of the castle library. She was ten winters old, and had avoided her tutors for most of the morning, and was now cosied up where she knew they wouldn’t think to look. She smirked, thinking herself the cleverest of princesses, and continued reading one of her favourite stories.

 

Red, Emma’s best friend, spied Emma intent upon the dusty tome that Red knew she favored. Red was dropping off heavy recipe books that her grandmother wanted returned to the library. She stretched her spine, feeling it pop in several places and sighed with pleasure.

 

“Thank you, Red,” said the soft spoken girl who assisted the librarian. The soft spoken girl’s name was Belle, and Red flushed with pleasure because Belle had said her name. “Are you taking your granny’s next requests back to her?”

 

Red, who was always embarrassed when Belle talked to her, although she didn’t know why, mumbled that she would be taking the books back, and nodded overenthusiastically when Belle asked her to wait a few moments.

 

Emma lost her concentration when Red sat down next to her, but that was okay. She knew this story like she knew the paths in the woods nearby, and what steps creaked on the way from her bedroom to the kitchens at night.

 

“Do you believe in true love, Red?” She asked her friend.

 

Red, only half paying attention to Emma, but knowing what her friend had asked, replied “yes.” She watched Belle searching amongst a pile of books on a table. “Yes i do.”

 

Emma and Red leaned against each other, and one continued reading whilst the other watched the girl who was so _interesting._

 

They’d had this conversation many times, and it didn’t occur to them to discuss since Emma’s own parents, the king and queen of the kingdom, who were a famous couple bonded by true love.

 

Everyone knew the story.

 

An evil queen had overthrown the old King Leopold’s reign, and had cursed the young princess Snow White to sleep for a thousand years - and so began the Queen’s reign of terror over the common people. James, a young prince, had quested to wake the long lost princess - and it was true love's kiss that broke the curse, and allowed the couple to spark a rebellion and defeat the evil queen. Anybody Emma asked would tell her the tale - their eyes clouding over as they spoke of it being a terrible time. Nobody ever told Emma their tales in enough detail to slack her thirst for information about the Queen and her rule. Nobody ever told her the Queen’s name. Any time Emma pressed she was met with resistance.

 

“You’re much too young to learn about this.”

 

“Don’t worry yourself, my dear.”

 

In time, Emma had stopped asking...

 

True, it was good that this villain had been stopped, but Emma thought it was a shame people didn’t tell more stories about that time. She loved stories.

 

Red interrupted her train of thought again. “Hey i’ll see you later,” her friend said, before heading off to where Belle was waiting with a smile.

 

Emma smiled at her friends preoccupation with the other girl, before settling down again to read about the star crossed lovers of yore, and she wondered briefly, if she would ever experience such a love, before dismissing that thought. Her parents had true love, she was born _of_ true love, which people told her time and time again made her special. Emma preferred the idea of working for something, be it love or fame or skill.

 

She looked forward to her sword lessons later that day.

******

 

**many years later**

 

Emma, princess of the White Kingdom, was on a quest.

 

She was a lover of tales and stories - not so much of the written varieties anymore, but the great spoken epics. The tales of bravery and courage. Quests to defeat great evils - fellowships, brotherhoods, covenants - all in the name of bringing good to the lands.

 

She was on a quest to defeat a great evil. Or at least one that was less talked about these days.

 

Growing up there were the stories of the Evil Queen - the devilish harpy who had ravaged the lands. Emma had enjoyed the tales as a young girl, with the privilege of knowing that the character in question was either half myth - her exploits greatly exaggerated, or at least, wasn’t a true threat to the lands anymore.

 

But Emma had heard rumours. Scare-the-children tales. Tales that The Evil Queen had not in fact been killed, but had instead retreated to her evil castle, deep in the dark woods to the north of the kingdom.

 

Emma knew when to scoff at mere fairy tale, but this rumor… this particular one had kept cropping up throughout her life so far. And something about The Evil Queen called to her.

 

And so here she was…

 

Emma crept along the dark hallway, mindful of her footsteps and the debris littered across the stone floor. Broken arrows, swords and shields, old bones and bodies of recent and forgotten adventurers were strewn haphazardly across her path. The light of the fire lantern Emma was carrying flickered eerily and it took all of her willpower not to turn around and run.  Blood spatters decorated the stone of the walls, handprints smeared haphazardly downwards to the bodies where they'd fallen. There were no signs of life, no guards, no monstrous creatures—but then she supposed, a powerful sorceress wouldn’t have any use of others protecting her or serving her.

 

Sounded ideal for a villain as horrible as this.

 

Sounded lonely.

 

Emma shook her head to focus.This was it. She was getting closer.

 

She wasn’t going to fail where these poor souls had. She had been trained by some of the greatest sword hands in the realm. The Queen was going to fall to her blade. Emma could practically taste victory. Could practically hear the jubilant cries of joy as she paraded the witch's head through the lands.

 

Emma Swan, Slayer of The Evil Queen. Her parents would be proud.

 

Yes, Emma was going to take down the most evil villain in the history of the land, and make a name for herself other than beloved princess of the realm.

 

But first—

 

She steeled herself and stepped over a cracked helmet, continuing on her quest.

 

She came to the entrance of a grand hall, fires burning in blackened pits along the side. A throne was situated at the other end of the room, a throne of black stone and gleaming gold. Atop the throne sat the Queen.

 

Finally.

 

The woman reclined on the great throne, clad in a voluminous, brocaded purple dress. Black hair was piled intricately on top of her head, a collar fanning out above broad shoulders.  She looked every inch a queen, a dark queen.

 

A fiend. A demon.

 

“I’ve been watching you with great interest, warrior,” the Queen’s voice echoed across the large chamber, smooth and low.

 

Emma cursed as she realised she’d lost the element of surprise. She moved towards the Queen cautiously.

 

“Have you come to kill me?” the Queen asked, tilting her head, pouting. She waved her hand, causing a wall of fire to raise from the ground obstructing Emma’s path to her.

 

The Queen sighed, as though bored. “Do your worst.” Another twist of her fingers and a sword flew from where it was set on the wall towards Emma.

 

Emma deflected the flying sword with her own and didn’t wait to see what the witch said or did next. She sprinted forward, jumping over the flames. She tucked into a roll as she hit the ground but was up and moving again in an instant, smoothly raising  her shield to block a spear from impaling her. The Queen’s eyes opened wide as Emma’s sword slid straight through her belly to the hilt.

 

The Queen blinked, her mouth falling open in a gasp, and she took a shuddering breath.

 

Emma sneered, “This is your end, witch!”

 

The Queen clutched at the leather gauntlets covering Emma’s forearm, her face growing calm. Emma frowned, twisting the sword. “Die!” she growled.

 

Why wasn’t the Queen dying? Why was she starting to laugh quietly, a dangerous smirk appearing on those beautiful lips. Shock dulled Emma’s movement, confusion staying her legs.

 

Smooth, manicured hands clapped to Emma’s cheeks, and Emma tried to twist her head away as the Queen’s laugh built to a deep, dark chuckle.

 

“Oh my, brave, brave knight. You’re mistaken if you think simple steel can harm me.” The Queen brought Emma closer. So close that Emma couldn’t help but stare at those luscious, blood red lips, telling her of her own downfall.

 

“This has been an entertaining overture but the hour grows late, and i am tired. It is a pity that I must put you down. You are quite beautiful,” the Queen trailed off, leaning in as though to kiss Emma.

 

Emma felt dizzy, as though the world was moving under her feet—all on the breath of the woman about to kill her. She jerked her head back, blinking furiously, breathing deeply.

 

“Time to die,” the Queen grinned devilishly, before tightening her hold on Emma’s head, heat spilling from her palms.

 

As Emma closed her eyes, heat surrounding her, preparing to meet her death, it occurred to her that the Queen was stunning. Her killer was the most gorgeous woman Emma had ever set eyes on.

 

What cruel poetry. Her luck. Killed by the kind of woman she would bed in a heartbeat.

 

“What on earth—” came the soft, confused exclamation that caused Emma to open her eyes.

 

Flames danced violently around them both, an inferno that was charring the ground below, blackening Emma’s armour, eating through anything she was wearing that could burn - flames that should have reduced Emma herself to ashes in moments. Fire with such intensity that the very air was growing hard to breathe. Emma’s sword was still thrust through the Queen.

 

Both women stared at each other in shock.

 

“You cannot be serious,” the Queen spat, dropping her hands to grasp at Emma’s wrist again.

 

One single thought took hold of Emma. She couldn’t breathe. It couldn’t be true.

 

Soul mates existed?

 

Hers was a villainous woman with a heart as black as the stone under her feet?

 

The Queen screamed in frustration as the fire erupting from her palms against Emma’s now unclad forearm left her skin untouched. She looked at Emma, worry now forming on her face, and she snarled, “What are you?”

 

Emma, instead of answering the witch, pulled her sword from the other woman, and they both gaped in shock as the blade slid through flesh and bone and cloth like a heated knife through butter, leaving no trace, and apparently not causing any pain to the Queen as Emma pulled it completely free and looked at the weapon. She dropped it and instead lunged forward relishing the cry of surprise as she pushed the other woman down and straddled her, grasping her knife that she kept sheathed against the back of her shield before discarding that too.

 

The knife sank cleanly into the queen's chest, in the valley between her breasts and Emma cursed, pulling it free and abandoning weaponry for her fingers around the pale, bared throat of the witch beneath her.

 

“Would you just get off me, nothing’s going to work you fool,” the woman muttered, her voice strained. “That’s not working.”

 

They both regarded each other warily as Emma slowly sat up straighter, her hands bracing on her thighs.

 

Her naked thighs.

 

Emma glanced down, realising she was devoid of any clothing other than the chainmail hauberk, now falling open and still warm against her skin. The plated parts of her armour littered around them where they’d fallen.

 

The Queen sighed, pushing herself up onto her elbows as she appraised Emma’s practically naked form atop her.

 

“You may as well get off me, we can’t hurt each other. I was not gentle with that magic, and i have a feeling we would exhaust ourselves before actually causing any harm to one another.” She quirked her eyebrow, her face growing lecherous, “Or,” she drawled, her fingers landing on Emma’s thighs and sliding up towards where the other woman’s hands sat, “I can think of much more _pleasant_ ways to exhaust ourselves.”

 

Emma reared back, slapping off the other woman’s wandering hands. “I will not bed someone as vile as you,” she spat aggressively, climbing to her feet. Emma felt the burn of embarrassment in her chest. “I will not fall victim to your seductions. You murder and maim at will and you corrupt innocents with your seductions.”

 

The Queen’s laugh spilled from her as she stood gracefully, hands brushing down the dark material of her skirts. She ran a hand over the slashed material where Emma’s sword had parted it, repairing the fabric in the blink of an eye before setting her sights on the blonde.

 

“Oh the outside world really has been working on stories about me hasn’t it. The people sharing wild tales of me around their ales - telling tales of me to scare younglings. Let me guess, the tales of me murdering scores of soldiers in their sleep - of leaving battlefields blackened and desolate and devoid of all life. How about that, warrior?” The Queen began to circle Emma, slowly.  “Or the tales of me ripping hearts from unwilling victims and crushing them in front of loved ones, or turning them to tasks without consent.”

 

Emma froze as suddenly the queens voice slid silkily into her ear from behind, “What about the tales of me inviting all manner of people and creatures into my bed to commit sinful and sordid acts...  never mind the fact all were there willingly, and humans are small minded anyway.”

 

Emma grit her teeth as the familiar burn of want took residence deep inside her belly. The Queens hands landed lightly, tauntingly, on the shoulders of the chainmail, before drawing the garment down Emma’s arms and letting it drop to the floor. Emma stood proudly, determinedly not letting any sign of the swirling fear and arousal inside show.

 

The Queen let a hand return to Emma’s shoulder, trailing her fingers down her toned back, before circling around to stand before Emma once more, letting her fingertips map a path to just below the blondes navel..

 

“I am not a good person. I am a killer, but i am not a rapist,” the Queen said firmly, meeting her eyes.

 

Emma scoffed. “You just said that you took away someone’s autonomy and made them do your bidding...”

 

The Queen shrugged, her arms falling to her sides, “Well… you got me there...”

 

“Not going to defend yourself?” Emma’s eyebrows shot up.

 

“I don’t care for it now. I tire of this. I’ll return you to the nearest settlement.”

 

“Wait a minute!” Emma spluttered, grabbing the other woman’s arm as she started to turn away. “We just found out we are,” Emma stumbled over making her mouth sound the words, “soul mates - does that not make you in the least bit intrigued?”

 

Regina maintained eye contact with Emma for a heartbeat before looking away. “Why would it?.” Regina waved her hand as she started to turn away again.

 

Emma grunted as there was a blinding cloud of purple smoke and she fell to her knees, shocked to discover grass beneath her. There was the muted clatter of her armour and weapons falling to the ground nearby. Her horse stamped at the ground a short distance away. At least she wasn’t without gold or credentials she thought hazily, spotting her saddlebags intact. She was still half naked however, a fact that she was reminded of as a cool breeze caused goosebumps to race across her skin.

 

Another thing she realised as she spied some sheets drying in the wind next to a homestead a short distance away, cursing herself for not packing a second set of clothing.

 

She _still_ didn’t know the Queen's name.

 

In all her righteous heroism to make a name for herself, she’d never once stopped to consider the name of the woman she had tried to kill. The curiosity Emma remembered having as a child came roaring back to her.

 

Emma resolved to find out and to return to the cursed palace soon.

 

First things first, something to cover her bare backside from the elements.

 

******

 

Emma returned to the castle, the journey taking several days as she took her time and  pondered things. She’d watched with delight as her people seemed to be happily absorbed in bringing in the crop, working the fields. Children and dogs would rapturously skitter along the roads as she passed, as wagons of produce and goods were transported for trade.

 

Cursing her decision not to pack a second set of clothing for her journey,Emma had taken a gift of clothing from the farmer who worked the land where she’d reappeared. Riding home in a sheet didn’t sound so inviting. She’d left gold tucked in one of the farmers boots, after he’d refused point blank to take any payment upon recognising her.

 

She took the miles of undulating fields and well cared for roads to think, the steady movement of her horse lulling her thoughts inwards.

 

The Queens name. This bothered Emma greatly. How could a figure so infamous not be more known by the people who spread her tale?  She’d taken the opportunity to stop in by several taverns on the way home, spreading gold to loosen people’s tongues and memories. She’d heard many of the tales before, and began to grow impatient, but reminded herself that any little bit of information may be useful.

 

“A vile demon, to be sure milady,” a burly guard had assured her. “But not seen in these parts for many years. Your mother and father defeated her at a great battle.”

 

“Some say she lives on still, hiding away in shame in a great castle in the woods.”

 

“Took on ten score men without any touching her!”

 

“...had powers beyond belief, skeletons rising from the ground and men at arms turning on their comrades…”

 

Emma had banged her flagon down on the wooden surface of another tavern with frustration, when the moon was high in the sky, after several days journey.

 

She sighed, rubbing her hand over her face. “Why won’t anyone give her a name? Everyone, creature or person has a name.”

 

“You don’t give name to things you fear, names give things power…” The barkeep had said darkly before shivering and picking up a rag to polish the tankard he held. “Anyway, another ale for your Highness?”

 

Emma nodded whilst pondering that little nugget of information. She didn’t fear much. Maybe that came from being raised with a sword in her hand as soon as she could walk. Emma was lucky, her parents had made sure she’d had the best of tutors and benefited from good quality weapons and practice since she’d expressed an interest in those things.

 

She didn’t have parental figures scaring her with ghost stories and threats to behave and go to sleep, was never told about the boogeyman under the bed and in dark, crumbling castles…

 

The Queen didn’t scare her one bit.

******

 

Emma decided she wasn’t going to get very far talking to the people of the land, not without spending a great deal more gold and time wading through people's fear and gossip.

 

It was time to just head straight for home. Emma stopped calling in at all the homesteads along the road and rode swiftly towards Castle White. She would talk to Belle. _She_ knew all the books in the library like the back of her hand, and Emma struggled with reading these days - her eyes hurt if she stared at the tiny letters for too long.

 

Belle was the librarian who served the castle, and been one of  Emma’s close friend for many many years. Her passions were the dusty tomes that crowded the shelves at Castle White, and Emma’s best friend, Red.

 

“Emma, you’re back!” Belle exclaimed as Emma walked into the library. She dumped a pile of books on a table and rushed over to hug her friend. “I missed you! Where did you go? Red said you’d gone hunting but that was almost a week ago.” Belle looked Emma up and down, noting the different quality of clothing she was wearing and looking at Emma questioningly.

 

Emma waved her away. “Had to borrow some clothes. Hey! I need your help with something.”

 

Belle straightened up at Emma’s serious tone. “Yes, whatever i can do to help Em, you know i will. Is it something to do with why you were away for so long?”

 

“Yes, but you must give me your oath you will keep this to yourself Belle - the less people who know about this the better.”

 

They sat together under a window, making sure the library was free of anybody who could hear them.

 

“Belle,” Emma began, not able to keep excitement out of her voice. “I found the Queen - the one the stories say could rip hearts out and lay waste to armies - _the_ evil queen of legend. But wait -” Emma stopped Belle from interrupting. “I tried to kill her but she used her magic to send me away.”

 

“Oh my goodness, Emma! That’s so dangerous! But so exciting!” Belle grinned before leaning forward. “So what do you need help with? Why would she send you away? I want to know everything - i _know_ you are not telling me everything.”

 

Emma decided at that moment she had to share everything with her friend.

 

“Belle. She - I tried -” Emma felt giddy as she tried to get the words out. “I tried to kill her. I had my sword _in_ her… shhhh!” Emma reached out to cover Belle’s mouth as she gasped. “And she tried too - tried to set fire to me. But Belle - please calm down - Belle we couldn’t do any harm to each other.”

 

Belle slapped her hands to her mouth to muffle her excited squeak.

 

“Emma,” she forced her voice to a whisper. “You _know_ what that means!”

 

“Shh,” Emma hushed her again, looking around nervously before shyly smiling. “I know what it’s supposed to mean.”

 

“Aren’t you beyond joyful Emma?”

 

Emma chuckled. “I don’t know what to feel right now Belle. All i know is that soulmates and true love and all these _special_ things are more complicated than the stories make out. But something that is bothering me Belle, is that amongst all the tales i’ve heard of her - and i’ve heard a lot - i’ve never heard an actual _name_ attached to these tales. And she didn’t exactly give me an opportunity to ask her.”

 

“Oh,” Belle said, tilting her head and pursing her lips thoughtfully. “I never thought about it… but you’re right. Emma! That’s so strange… and i guess i have more than a passing interest in her too…

 

“What do you mean?” Emma pressed, intrigued.

 

“My father says that she killed a demon called Rumplestiltskin who threatened to kidnap me when i was a baby, so i guess she isn’t all bad.”

 

Emma laughed, standing up and moving amongst the great shelves of books. “Will she be in here somewhere?”

 

Belle followed, trailing her fingers along the spines of the numerous volumes, some old tomes, some newer. “Do you know, i’m not sure - other than that book you used to practically cradle in your sleep. Nothing has come in since i started minding the library. Perhaps before?”

 

They spent the afternoon looking through volumes that they thought might be relevant to an old myth - old rulers of the lands. They’d called her a Queen after all. Hours of pouring over screeds of text left Emma no further forward and with a headache.

 

“I don’t think we’re going to get anywhere here Belle, but thank you for trying.”

 

“No problem. It’s strange though, that there’s no mention of her at all. There should be _something_ more than that one book _._ There should be records. ”

 

“Hm.” Emma sighed. Her stomach rumbled, causing the two friends to smile at each other.

 

“I’d best go eat, and see my parents. They will be wondering where i got to. I’ll see you later Belle.”

 

“Emma, i’ll keep looking - you’ve piqued my interest now. And i’m so excited for you!”

 

Emma thanked her friend and departed to go speak to the people who would know something. Her parents.

 

**

 

******

 

The meal laid out before her was fit for royalty but not ostentatiously so; enough for a hearty meal, plenty to go around for the family gathered around the table. Emma greeted her parents with hugs and assurances that she’d been safe enough whilst out in the lands. Her parents approved of her tale of travelling to see their people.

 

Snow White and King Charming were just and kind rulers, the people said, in touch with the pulse of the land.

 

“So, i’ve been researching something of interest to me.”

 

“Tell us dear daughter,” Snow smiled.

 

“The Evil Queen.”

 

Her parents both paused mid bite before looking at each other.

 

Emma dove onwards bluntly. “I’ve heard so many slivers of rumors and half tales, and nobody really talks about her properly but the matter has caught my interest.”

 

Snow put her cutlery down and leant back in her chair. “Well,” She began slowly, “what do you want to know honey? I remember you used to have an interest when you were a little girl but i thought you were past that...”

 

“It’s a tale i kept hearing about on my travels, a story people enjoy telling to scare their children. And of course i know she was _real..._ I was just curious, nothing more, but i think it’s fascinating that nobody seems to remember a name for the Queen.”

 

“Well,” Snow began delicately, “I don’t see why you would need to know her name Emma - she’s not a concern of ours anymore?”

 

“The Evil Queen was defeated a long time ago, Emma.” James chimed in, “She’s of no threat to the land.”

 

Emma sighed, “That’s not what i’m asking - i know she was a terrible power and i know that she was defeated by you guys before i was born but i just want to know her name!”

 

“I don’t see why-”

 

“There’s no need-”

 

“Damnit!” Emma stood up abruptly, the chair scraping back over the flagstones. She wasn't used to people putting obstacles in her path. She forced herself to be contrite. “Forgive me. Never mind. I’m not hungry.”

 

Emma ignored her parents calls to come sit again and stormed from the room. She was angry and frustrated and she was getting nowhere.

 

She would have to return to the source and ask the woman herself.

 

******

 

Emma left the next morning, determined to make good time back to the cursed castle. She forgoed staying in the various inns along the way instead deciding to rough it with nature instead. It made for faster travelling.

 

It took her four days instead of six this time, riding and walking to reach the forest surrounding the castle. She made her way through the tree’s cautiously, the dark shapes cast by shadows and the sun descending causing a sliver of unease to slide down her spine as before. She made it to the great doors of the castle without incident however, and she tied her horse loosely to a branch before entering the great building once more as the sun started to give way to the moon.

 

It was unchanged - dark corridors and carnage littered everywhere. Emma picked her way through the confusion, her hand on the hilt of the knife she carried. Just in case.

 

She was unaccosted, as before, and she soon found herself back in the great throne room.

 

The Queen was not there however, and the great throne was empty.

 

Emma skirted the room, slow and careful, unsure if the Queen had traps or protections this far in her lair. She set no traps off however, and wiped the sweat off her forehead when she stood next to the throne. It was warm, the high flames of the sconces heating the vast room.

 

She cast her eyes around for where the Queen could be, noting the many open arches leading off further into the great structure, then spied a small nondescript doorway in the corner, the door ajar. An open invitation. Emma pushed it open slowly, and found herself in a wider corridor, with branches diverting off and some stairways. More fire sconces lit the corridors, and she just let instinct guide her as she explored.

 

She soon found herself on a balcony that led to an open archway. The light from within was spilling through and illuminating the stonework. A majestic bed and chaise long was visible, no door obscuring her line of sight into the room. Emma moved towards what was clearly the Queens inner sanctum but she couldn’t help but be distracted by the view from the balcony.  The moon was now high in the sky, painting the forest and mountains below in beautiful yet ghostly streaks of grey, silver and blue.

 

Emma was startled out of her appreciation by a low voice from behind, curling around her very bones.

 

“Come to try kill me again?”

 

The Queen stood in the archway, haloed by the light within. Something in Emma relaxed at the sight of the other woman.

 

“Why are you here?” The Queen prompted, clearly irritated to have company.

 

“I was curious…” Emma trailed off, now feeling unsure of herself. This was a feeling that Emma did not experience frequently.

 

“Curious…” The Queen lifted an elegant eyebrow. “You came all this way again because you were curious… Well… You may as well come in now that you are here.” She moved inside, beckoning Emma with a bejeweled hand.

 

Emma paused at the threshold. “What is your name? Why does nobody know it?”

 

“Blunt, aren't we… Nobody cares to remember,” the queen offered, lightly, officiously pouring two goblets of the deepest red wine. “You may as well drink with me, since you won't leave me to my solitude.”

 

Emma gazed at the proffered vessel, brows furrowing for a moment before she met the brunettes gaze, eyes narrowing with the question of accusation. The Queen smirked, the expression causing Emma's pulse to quicken, and red, red lips touched the rim of the glass. A sip was taken, thoroughly appreciated - if the sigh of pleasure was anything to go by - and swallowed by the dark woman.

 

“Satisfied?” The Queen snarked, holding out the wine once more. Emma took the glass, considering the mark where the Queen's lips had touched. She took a sip.

 

It was better than anything her parents served, surely. And they thought themselves to have quite the refined palate.

 

“Where did you get this? It's not a local vintage,” Emma asked, forcing herself to be casual. She spied the same vista out the grand windows in the chamber and strolled to enjoy the view whilst sipping the delightful liquid. She lightly rested her hand on the hilt of her sword, lightly fingering the leather wrapping on the hilt.

  


It caused the queen to laugh, a warm, deep rumble that caused Emma's breath to catch. She cursed the effect the other woman seemed to have on her. Turning away from The silvery dreamscape painted by the moon, Emma noted the Queen reclining on the chaise, watching her like predator watches its prey.

 

Fucking _hellfire_ , Emma thought as she swallowed nervously. Unnerved by the butterflies bouncing around in her belly, Emma fought to control her bodies reaction. It was quite simply _unfair_ that the Queen was beautiful and dangerous and apparently that mix was an aphrodisiac of the highest quality to Emma.

 

The Queen saw Emma’s fingers curling comfortably around the sword hilt, inclining her head and Emma's hand suddenly came into a fist as the sword disappeared in a puff of purple, only to reappear on the magnificent bed at the center of the room. Her knives and the shield she wore on her back appeared there too, the gentle scraping of metal relaxing together telling her so.

 

“You do not need your weapons, Princess. We can do no harm to each other, that much is clear. What is not clear,” the Queen said, taking a mouthful of red, “is why you are here. You have no business here, now that some higher power has robbed you of it.”

 

“That answer about people not caring to remember is nonsense.” Emma thought back to the other woman’s words when she’d first arrived. “Enough coin or booze would loose any creatures tongue - if you give them enough.” Emma puzzled, not sure of the limitations of magic. She snorted, “did you curse them or something?”

 

The slow curving of the Queen’s lips gave her away.

 

Emma raised her eyebrows. “Really? Why.”

The Queen inspected her nails for a while, and just when Emma was wondering if her question was going to be ignored, then Queen sighed and answered.

 

“Giving something a name gives it identity, gives it legitimacy, gives it immediacy. Something incites fear if there is no name for it. I just want to be left alone.” The Queen let that statement hang there for a moment, looking at Emma with an eyebrow raised pointedly.

 

“But you still have people looking to come find you, like i did.”

 

“Mmm,” the Queen agreed. “I didn’t have the means to completely erase myself from memory... but at least I don't have armies coming for me anymore. Not that they would stand a chance.” She smirked. The infrequent foolish adventurer is more a diversion from boredom.”

 

Emma felt a sliver of fear trickle down her back as she recalled the stories of destruction that were told of this woman. They couldn’t all be lies. She circled back to her big issue.

 

“I couldn't kill you.”

 

The Queen fixed her with a glare. “My, my you are observant.”

 

“But this means we are soul mates,” Emma persisted. “And that means that you,” she nodded, her words gaining confidence and momentum, “are my true love.”

 

“Yes, how about that.” The Queen stood abruptly with a twirl, moving to refill her goblet. “My true love is the brat of the Charmings. Oh my! What a delightful turn of events. Are we to run away now? Shall i keep a good home for you whilst you fill my belly with babies?” she spat, her tone rife with derision. “Are we to live happily ever after?”

 

Emma searched for some kind of response to the sarcastic display, and landed on the most obvious one. “Babies? How?”

 

“Of course that's what you fixate on,” the Queen muttered. “Because that's apparently all I'm thought to be worth.” She laughed, high and sharp and utterly scathing. “You truly are a Charming if you think being soulmates equates to being true love.” She mockingly sang the last two words. “It simply means you cannot do what the rest of the realm wishes to do and kill me. It doesn't mean anything else. It doesn't give us a free pass to any kind of _love_. If you even wanted that.”

 

The Queen sighed and leaned on the tabletop with her fists clenched.

 

Emma took in the curve of the Queens back, her tense shoulders. She wasn't stupid, she hadn't ridden back with some foolish notion that this deadly, beautiful woman was suddenly going to confess feelings and collapse in her arms. “Well, at least you are honest.” She shrugged, nonchalant.

 

Regina shook her head. “Now you, why did you come here looking to kill someone who isn't a threat anymore?”

 

Emma cocked her head at the back of the woman leaning on the table. Honesty was Emma’s way. It didn’t suit her to dress her words up in such a way as her parents or people trying to vie for favour at court did. She knew when people were being fake, she called it her superpower. And so she did people the same favour, and was honest. “Well, I need to be someone other than a princess sometimes, i want to do good things for this world. Nothing ever happens in this land past the odd band of thieves.”

 

“Be careful what you wish for, Princess“ The Queen snorted, turning around.

 

Emma waved her words away. “Won’t you at least tell me your name, since we are somehow connected anyway?”

 

The other woman returned to her seat and picked up her wine, swirling it. She spent a few moments looking intently into the red liquid whilst pursing her lips.

 

“Fine.” She locked eyes with Emma, who listened intently. “My name is Regina.”

 

Emma couldn't help the smile forming on her lips. “Regina,” she said, sounding the word out, as though tasting each syllable.

 

A beautiful and regal name for a beautiful and regal woman, Emma thought.

 

“Thank you for telling me,” She told Regina. “And i am Emma.”

 

Regina was quiet for a few moments, searching Emma’s face assessingly. Clearly Emma passed whatever Regina’s criteria was though, and the woman leaned back comfortably, sipping her wine.

 

“Emma.”

 

******

 

And so it went -

 

Emma returned to Regina many times, seeking her conversation, her _attention_. Emma found she couldn’t keep her mind away from the brunette.

 

Regina would say she tolerated Emma’s presence, treating her like an irritating cat and sighing dramatically that she would never have solitude again.

 

But Regina was warming to Emma, indulging in conversation willingly instead of it being dragged out of her by a doggedly enthusiastic Emma. Emma told Regina of her days in the castle, life at court, enjoying Regina’s acerbic wit and humor about the people Emma knew. Emma lamented the stiff manner in which people would address her day in and day out whilst at her parents court - Emma much preferring the manner of the castle guard and army barracks.

 

Emma would proudly perform drills with her sword, saying she needed to keep up her skills since she was spending so much time at Regina’s castle. She pretending not to notice the way Regina’s eyes would follow her when she thought Emma wasn’t paying attention.

 

In time, Regina gave her an amulet that Emma jealously guarded under her tunic - it allowed her to transport to the castle, saving several days travel and many, many insitunating questions -

 

_“Where are you spending all your days?”_

 

_“Emma has a paramour.”_

 

She could hear them in her parents court, and goodnaturedly shrugged all the suggestions off, citing sword practice, and tomfoolery -

 

But really, she was spending more and more of her days with Regina.

 

“Do you _know_ how to dance?” Regina slyly asked, when Emma was complaining about balls and stupid, _idiots_ who kept asking her to join them on the dance floor.

And before Emma could formulate a respectable response covering the fact she indeed did _not_ know since she thought it was a waste of time, Regina had her standing, a hand placed on her waist and the other being firmly held.

 

“I figured you would want to lead,” Regina breathed, her face far too close to Emma for the blonde to keep rational thought, and she bid her legs follow through on what Regina was trying to tell her. “We will start simple, of course.” Regina started to direct Emma in how to move their feet. “You have to keep space for each other. Keep your arms strong, and everything will follow.”

 

Emma tried to pay attention to Regina, but the feeling of her so close was making that very difficult. But she persisted, and so did Regina, patiently chuckling whenever Emma stood on her toes. They swayed more than danced at first, but as Emma grew in confidence she learned to sweep Regina around the room more and more grandly. One day, feeling bold, Emma dipped Regina in the way she had seen women being dipped, and her eyes lingered on rich, deep red lips, and then brown, soul-capturing eyes, before righting the other woman, and stepping away respectfully.

 

And Emma practiced her light-footed strides, dancing out of the way of servants and friends -

 

“What _are_ you doing, Emma?” Red queried one fine day, her immaculate brown eyebrow rising.

 

“Oh, nothing,” Emma had shrugged, “It’s good footwork for swordplay.”

 

Red had then raised both eyebrows, crossing both arms, but seemingly accepted the statement as Emma had darted sleekly round the corner of the corridor, sweating.

 

Emma figured that spending time with a myth, no less a myth that had horrific powers and destructive capabilities and was the so called mortal enemy of her parents was probably not the best information to tell people. Even her best friend. The fact that Belle knew and quietly asked her how things were occasionally brought Emma to a sweat.

 

“I have never done anything to these people other than save myself,” Regina raged one fine afternoon.  “Time and time again, i have protected the land from evils other than my so-called self - from a reputation put forth by your parents!”

 

Emma could do nothing other than nod, in the face of such vehemence, such frustration.

“The common people say differently,” Emma ventured one day.

 

Regina had nodded, a quiet, “ah,” issued from her lips. “Yes, they would say _differently._  The people talk about an evil Queen who terrorised them year from year, how i stole the throne from the beloved _White_ family, how i killed that bastard-” Regina caught herself, the vein in her forehead prominent as she tried to claw back some control. She took some deep breaths before continuing more calmly. “They say nothing about the monarch who protected them from invasion, from starvation when harvests were poor.”

 

Carefully, Emma thought about her words. “So you deny that you were a terror of the land? That you should be held beloved by all? You killed my grandfather and spent years hunting my mother.”

 

“Yes i did those things. I don’t claim to be a good person, Emma.” Regina whirled. “I did those things and i enjoyed them, rejoiced in the chase and the pain i caused. Because they deserved everything i did. And then one day, i didn’t enjoy it anymore. And i let them be...” She fell quiet.

 

“And do you deny taking away people’s free will? Luring people into your bed against their will?”

 

Regina scoffed. “I absolutely took away people's free will sometimes… but not for that. I would never… I would never lower myself.” Regina looked at Emma fiercely. “I would _never._ ”

 

Emma could see there was a story there, but now wasn’t the time to pry. So she accepted Regina’s words, glad that whatever other crimes Regina had committed, she didn’t have to add rapist to the list. She let the conversation turn to less intense subjects.

 

And Emma wasn’t sure when it happened, somewhere between the leaves falling from the trees and the descent of snow, and the realisation that Regina’s relationship with the lands and people she once ruled was anything but black or white, but somewhere along the way Emma understood that she was falling in love.

 

She was falling in love with the Evil Queen of legend.

  


******

 

One grey afternoon a rider clattered into the courtyard at Castle White, horse foaming at the mouth.

 

“Message for the keep,” he kept shouting wildly until he was half-led, half-carried before the throne.

 

“What is the meaning of this,” King James had asked solemnly, his chin resting on a fist. Emma stood behind his throne, a feeling of concern solidifying in her belly. “What news do you bring?” She called out.

 

“My King!” The rider cried hoarsely. “My Queen! I bring news from the far west, as far as the great mountains - a great invading force has been spotted crossing the great rivers on boats and giants backs. They are heading for the borders of the White Kingdom. I rode as fast as i could to bring you this information,” The man slumped to his knees, having said his piece, visibly exhausted. Emma ran to him to catch him before he keeled over.

 

“Water, i need water,” she called, and one of the courtiers brought a flagon to them. “Here man, drink.” She urged the rider, holding the vessel to his lips. “What more? Numbers? Do you know who is leading this force?”

 

The man grasped the clay vessel and drank deeply, sloshing the water down his front with his efforts. He coughed then wiped his mouth, looking at Emma with fear in his eyes.

 

“My lady, i’ve heard reports of thousands. Tens of thousands. A force ready to decimate any who stand in their way.”

 

“And who leads them?” Snow asked regally from the throne.

 

The man shook his head. “I’m sorry my Queen, i do not know. Nobody seems to know. There are no banners or colors seeming to belong to the force as a whole. It’s just a force intent on our destruction. Peasants are fleeing their homesteads to larger settlements.

 

The court was awash with unease and fearful gossip immediately.

 

More reports started filtering in from the western edges of the kingdom, more sightings of ogres, direwolves, giants and other fell beasts marching together chaotically, yet with some fell purpose. Rumours sprang up of witchcraft, sudden disappearances, overnight occurrences of entire towns being burnt to the ground with few survivors and suddenly Emma and Queen Snow and King James were crowded around the war table more and more.

 

“They are just _so_ strong,” James groaned, his fist landing on the solid oak table. “How are they anticipating our troops? They just keep coming.”

 

“Have faith,” Snow urged, a hand curving to his arm. “Good will win out.”

 

But Emma observed with eyes and ears that the kingdoms forces were _not_ winning, and soon it was clear that they were going to have to go to the front personally to lead the troops, which is something she had argued for as soon as the skirmishes had began on the borders of the kingdom. The King and Queen had shut her down however, citing their troops and generals being strength enough to halt any forces.

  


****************

 

A feast.

 

The King and Queen had decided that to sooth the ruffled feathers of the court and the castle dwellers, a grand feast would be just the thing to boost morale.

 

There were roast boars and birds of all kinds, heaps of vegetables and enough mead to drown an ox in. Minstrels plinked at their instruments and people laughed, too high and too loud to be natural. The several fireplaces were roaring, spilling out their warmth and light. All in all, it was a clear attempt at everyone in the room to try and feel normal.

 

Emma wasn’t in the party mood at all, her mind flitting between the reports she’d been reading about the invading horde and of course, as ever, Regina. She took another deep drink of ale. Maybe she’d had too much, wasn’t pacing herself but clear refusal to see the truth frustrated her and so; she drank.

 

Lady Smock leaned over, her overly painted lips the thing Emma’s eyes landed on.

 

“So princess, have you found yourself a handsome man yet?”

 

Emma snorted in her most unladylike way as she could muster and replied gruffly. “Why would i need a _man?_ ”

 

“Quite.” The woman tutted, turning away to talk to the Duke beside her.

 

Emma could hear the word _ruffian_ being said and she shrugged to herself.

 

In time, the great long tables were moved to the sides of the hall to make room for dancing.

 

Emma’s hand was asked for several times, by young courtiers and elderly allies alike, and all were rejected. Instead, she brooded whilst inspecting the bottom of her goblet. She wondered what Regina was doing. She wished Regina was there with her. Emma would dance with Regina. Regina’s wit would also be appreciated at a moment like this. Regina would flay sycophantic people like Lady Smock alive with her tongue. It would be most satisfying and entertaining.

 

“What’s wrong, daughter?” James sat down on the bench next to Emma, breaking her from her moody introspection. He filled her drink. “You’ve been sitting stewing here for a while. Why are you not dancing?”

 

“Father, this all seems,” Emma huffed, gesturing behind her, “such a waste. Why are we not saddling up to ride out? That is what feels right. Not this frivolous activity.”

 

“Emma, you never could relax into the moment… always wanting to run off to the stables or practice with the soldiers-”

 

“Well, yeah, father.” Emma tried not to roll her eyes. “There is always more to do than spend time with these-”

 

James smiled and raised his eyebrows which stopped Emma in her tracks. She smiled apologetically.

 

“Emma, i know you would rather not spend your time being diplomatic - that was me once upon a time. But wars are expensive. And the people here,” James let his voice dip, “Have the money to finance the kingdoms defence. As frustrating as that may be, and trust me Emma, i understand what you are feeling - as frustrating as that must be, it must be done. It’s a necessary evil.”

 

Emma sighed, her sails deflated. She flagged down a servant for another flagon of ale.

 

James smirked as his daughter took a deep drink. “Tell me daughter, who has your attention these days?” He laughed as Emma’s coughed, turning her head in question.

 

“I don’t know what you mean,” she said, taking another sip to clear her throat.

 

“I know that look well, Emma. I remember it well.” James smiled and stood, squeezing Emma’s shoulder and winking before returning to to charm his Lords and Ladies.

  


******

 

The sun was setting on the forest, silhouetting the mountains in the far distance. Emma rested her elbows on the stone balustrade, trying to calm the roiling emotions inside.

 

Regina joined her, holding a glass of wine out. “Out with it. Why are you acting all wistful?”

  


“I have to go away and i might be a while.”

 

Regina’s went perfectly still. “Oh.”

 

Emma smiled, sad. “Oh? That it?” She asked hopefully.

 

“Oh. No, of course. You have duties and such i presume?”

 

“The kingdom has to go to war…” Emma cleared her throat. “There’s a threat from the west. Ogres and such, rising up against us again. I have to go lead my men... You would be a good ally.” Emma held Regina’s eyes with her own, challengingly. “If the stories they tell about your abilities in battle are even half true…”

 

Regina’s face remained neutral, but her jaw clenched. “I shall not be used as a tool, Emma.”

 

Emma sighed. It was worth a try. “I don’t mean to use you as a tool, Regina. An ally, not a pawn.” She ran her fingers through her hair. “I’m sorry. I should know better.”

 

Regina pursed her lips, her eyes narrowing at Emma for a moment before she took off deeper into the chamber, away from the balcony. “Some refreshments then, before you take your leave?” Regina willed into existence a table with various foods, a carafe of wine. Emma smirked.

 

“You know i can’t resist your food, Regina.” Emma eyed the laden table, far more than the both of them could ever eat even at their most gluttonous. “Out of curiosity, where does the food come from? It is created solely from magic?”

 

Regina shook her head. “No, food created only from magic would not fill you for very long. Magic cannot sustain you in that way… No, i have the ingredients in my stores and i pull from those.”

 

“So you’re telling me that you are the quickest cook in all the lands?” Emma quipped. “A good skill to have.” Emma stuck her tongue out at the Queen and immediately cherished the fact that she could do so.

 

“Watch yourself Emma, or i may kick you out again without you tasting this dish i made just for you.”

 

Emma held her hands up, chuckling. “Consider myself told, my Queen.”

 

Regina rolled her eyes and magically summoned plates into their hands. “Now, fill up that never ending stomach, Emma.”

 

Emma didn’t have to be invited twice, and she immediately piled her plate high, and sighed with pleasure when she stuck a firm and juicy tomato into her mouth and chewed.

 

“More wine?” Regina didn’t even look at her as she replenished their drinking vessels and took a long draft of the red liquid. Emma couldn’t help her eyes being drawn to the muscles in Regina’s neck working as she swallowed, and was completely not paying attention as she stuffed roast pheasant in her mouth.

 

It stuck in her throat and Emma started coughing violently, dropping her plate. She tried to drink something and slap her own back in her attempts to dislodge the meat “Regi-” She tried to say but only a breathy whisper came forth.

 

Immediately she felt Regina behind her, one hand bracing on her shoulder, the other slamming between her shoulder blades.

 

“You imbecile,” Regina growled as she repeated the motion, following Emma to the ground as the blonde sank to her knees. Emma grasped the edge of the table, trying desperately to draw breath. Her lungs were burning, and the edges of her vision were starting to draw in. “Emma!” Regina repeated frantically.

 

“Idiot!” Regina slammed her palm again and Emma felt something dislodge in her throat just as she was starting to sag forward. Regina’s arms went around her to prevent her head from hitting the table and she sank forward before being pulled back, against Regina’s chest. She sucked in breaths, deep and hard, gulping at the sweet, sweet air. Emma let her head loll back against Regina’s shoulder, and savoured the sensation of the other woman cradling her.

 

Regina’s hand pressed to her forehead before sweeping her hair back and tucking it behind Emma’s ear. Emma then felt more than heard Regina’s throat tightened, a small noise of distress escaping. She felt Regina take a deep breath, the ribs she was laying against expanding wide.

 

Emma looked down as Regina’s hand landed on her own and awkwardly - almost as though she was going to take it before seeming to think better of that action and patting the back of it. Emma grabbed Regina’s hand before she could remove it, and purposefully stroked her thumb down the back of Regina’s smooth hands. They were very different to her own, she noted, having never had the chance to look at them so closely before. Emma’s hands were rough and calloused, due to years of physical training and an innate determination to not be the pretty pampered princess. They could not have been more different.

 

She took her time in getting her breath back, drawing in deep breaths of air.

 

Finally, she found her voice. “Regina, thank you. I-”

 

“Idiot!” Regina spat. A tremor wracking her small frame under Emma. “How could you-” Regina pushed Emma forward until the blonde found her balance, and stood from where she’d been crouched.

 

“How dare you-” Regina said, her voice dangerously low.

 

“Regina.” Emma slowly picked herself off the floor, turning to face the restlessly pacing woman. “I don’t understand.”

 

Regina whirled and stormed right up to Emma. Emma took a step back until the backs of her thighs pressed into the table behind her and Regina advanced until she was practically pressed up against Emma. Emma couldn’t help her stupid body's reaction to the proximity of the other woman and felt a thrill of realisation speed through her limbs.

 

Regina could not have looked more angry. She brought an arm up to roughly slap Emma’s arm, and when she started to speak each word was punctuated by a slap.

  
“You do not get to endanger your life like that - not by being an idiot. Idiot! You could have died, Emma. Defeated by a momentary lapse in concentration. Don’t you dare - don’t you _dare_ let your life end like that. Stupid, stupid, _idiot,”_ Regina hissed, her open handed slaps becoming tight little fists beating at Emma’s chest. “If _I_ can’t kill you, then nothing else is allowed to.”

 

Emma realised Regina was on the verge of crying and was stunned. Regina… _cared._ Her confusion at the other woman’s outburst resolved into a deep compassion and she just moved with instinct, gathering Regina up in her arms, trapping those angry fists against her chest. Regina struggled for a moment before finally Emma felt her relax into her arms, her head falling forward to rest on Emma’s shoulder.

 

And that’s how Emma found herself hugging Regina.

 

She didn’t trust her voice and so Emma just held Regina, feeling gentle tremors run through the woman’s frame. She didn’t shush her or offer comfort, deciding that Regina would probably rear back and shut her emotions away and so she just… passively offered strength and steadiness. She willed Regina to feel that - to feel her chest moving and her arms holding her strongly.

 

Eventually, Regina gently tried to push herself away, and turned quickly, a hand rising to dash at her eyes. Emma didn’t say anything. Feeling the tension in the room. Instead she let Regina have a few moments, and returned to the table to slowly start to pick at the food on offer, making sure she was chewing everything thoroughly. Emma gingerly sat down, bringing her plate with her, and tried to process the events of the past few minutes.

 

Regina had saved her life. Had held her. And had then clearly been distressed by the whole situation.

 

What did it mean?

 

Emma knew without a doubt that she was hopelessly in love with Regina. Could she dare to hope that Regina returned her feelings in any way? Even a small way? Regina loved to act like she barely tolerated Emma, but Emma knew that Regina enjoyed her company. She thought of Regina laughing with her during conversations and recalled a night where they’d drank entirely too much to maintain any kind of boundaries and had ended up dancing wildly in the moonlight. Emma could’ve sworn Regina was going to kiss her that night. But other than these moments, and the occasional fond smile from Regina, the brunette kept her emotions close to her chest.

 

Eventually, Regina came near Emma, her back straight and that regal mask oh so tightly put back on.

 

“I’ve gotten used to you Princess, don’t go getting yourself killed. I’m fond of you.”

 

Emma’s lips curved into a smile. That was good enough for her right now.

 

“I’d do a better job of remembering not to do that if you were with me, Regina. Think about what i said.”

 

Regina inclined her head, declining to comment. She changed the subject. “I’m glad you learned how to eat with more dignity,” she sniffed, sitting down and rearranging her skirts.

 

Emma smirked. That’s how it was going to be then. She knew better than to bring up everything that had just happened.

 

“I knew spending time with you would smooth some of my rougher edges. Never mind being raised at court.”

 

Regina flashed her teeth, sinking them into a peach. Emma concentrated so so hard not to let her eyes do what they desperately wanted. She dug her nails into her palm.

 

“Did you know what people were saying to ume at the last banquet we had?” Emma placed her plate back on the table, satiated for now, and let her voice rise in a mocking, mimicking tone. “Oh Princess, have you found yourself a _man_ yet.”

 

Regina snorted, pulling the flesh of the peach from the stone with her mouth. She chewed slowly, pausing to lick her lips. Her eyes met Emma’s and held them as she finished swallowing and patted her lips with a napkin.

 

“Oh _Princess_ ,” she said, her lips twisting in that way that made Emma’s insides explode into familiar butterflies. “You don’t need a _man.”_

 

Emma’s mouth fell open at Regina’s words, her brows furrowing in momentary confusion, before the brunette leaned forward almost growling the her words.

 

“No _man_ is worthy of you, Emma.”

 

Emma ducked her head, feeling the burn of a blush on her cheeks. She couldn’t help the smile that fought its way onto her face in spite of her trying her very best to control her expression.

 

 _Oh, and i suppose you are?_ Emma desperately wanted to make that thought verbal, but something stayed her tongue.

 

Regina smirked, as though she could read Emma’s thoughts though, before changing the subject.

 

*

 

The winter's grip on the breeze was beginning to lessen, and the fresh air breathed into the candlelit chambers, as Regina stood over Emma, one hand splayed over her abdomen.

 

Emma snored gently where she lay, curled comfortably on her side on top of the bed that Regina rarely slept in. The blonde's hair was splayed out all around her like wild halo and she had her hands tucked under her cheek. Regina couldn't take her eyes off her. Emma looked like some kind of heavenly creature.

 

Regina snorted at the errant thought that Emma was sent for her like those tales of angels she once read about.

 

Sighing, Regina turned away from the sleeping beauty to consider Emma’s armor, neatly placed by the door to her chambers. A pleasing breath of wind greeted her at the archway as she looked down at the metal ringlets folded just so, so that it could be donned quickly if need be.

 

Pursing her lips, Regina recalled a conversation with Emma one drunken night about why Emma wore chainmail instead of the plate favoured by most knights.

 

“Have _you_ ever worn plate? It’s cumbersome, i prefer to be lighter on my feet,” Emma had explained her armor choice. “Plate is safer, but my strengths in battle are my speed -  and a good defence is a good offence. Better to take down the enemy before they can take you down.” Emma had nodded as she put the worlds to rights over defensive techniques, before rambling on to wistfully complaining that she wanted _adventure_ but that her role in the kingdom tied her down.

 

She’d at least looked sheepish when Regina reminded her how awful life must be for her living in a castle with every reasonable whim catered for.

 

 _Well, Emma is about to get what she wished for,_ Regina thought sourly.

 

Regina pouted as she warred with herself about what she was about to do. Her hand hovered over Emma’s chainmail, feeling each particle, each piece of metal, feeling her intent - weightlessness, unbreakable - and - _there_. She felt the magic slide between the ringlets, bind itself to the garment. The armour glowed a deep purple for a brief moment before settling back to its dull colors.

 

The Queen stood once more, turning back to the sleeping woman. She crossed the room quickly, leaning and bracing herself on an arm over Emma.

 

“Come back to me,” she whispered, tucking a strand of hair behind Emma's delicate ear. “Don't you dare go dying on me, not now. Not now i’m… used to you.”

 

Regina sighed again as Emma’s lips twitched into a smile before quickly smoothing out in blissful sleep once more. She envied the blonde for her seeming ability to sleep anywhere. The night was going to be long and Regina didn’t feel like trying to sleep, not whilst the dread tugging at her heart was making itself known. She settled herself down in one of the chairs with a glass of wine and watched over Emma until the sun started to join her in her wakeful watch, peeking over the horizon.

 

*

 

Emma lifted Regina’s hands together and held them. Absentmindedly, her thumb ran over Regina’s knuckles.

 

“I…” Emma’s breath caught as suddenly a huge weight of emotion settled onto her chest. Her shoulders were heavy. Her throat tight. She blinked furiously and took a deep breath.  “I will come back,” Emma’s lips trembled and tightened into a thin line as she then pressed a calloused hand to Regina's cheek. She nodded resolutely. “I won't forget you and i will come back as soon as i can.”

 

Regina had watched Emma gather her belongings, and helped her don her armor quietly, pulling the straps of her pauldron tight. She wrapped Emma’s sword belt snugly around her before fastening the buckle and wrapping the excess leather around itself in a tidy knot. Letting her fingers linger, she slowly traced them up and let them rest lightly on the Princesses chainmail covered belly. Regina felt her magic still saturating the metal, and tried to let that lend some calm to her. Emma was a skilled swordswoman, and the added protection of her armor meant that hopefully, there was less risk of her being harmed.

 

Regina tried to reassure herself, but found it hard, and was disgruntled to feel her lower lip starting to quiver.

 

“Hey,” Emma said softly, her fingers catching Regina’s chin, urging Regina to look at her.

 

“Don’t make any promises to me, Emma.” Regina shook her head slightly, her voice cracking. “I don’t think i could bear it if you couldn’t keep them.”

 

Emma swallowed,and nodded slowly, trying to stop her heart from breaking through her chest. She resolved to make this easier on the both of them. “Okay. I won’t.” She let go of Regina and stepped back, reaching inside the neckline of her chainmail and tunic to grasp Regina’s amulet. She checked her knives, her sword, and her shield were all buckled into place.

 

There was no point in prolonging a painful goodbye. Emma grasped the amulet she wore with one hand, and reached for Regina’s hand with the other. She squeezed Regina’s hand with before whispering “Goodbye for now,” and closing her eyes, wishing herself away.

 

******

 

Emma tried to stretch in the saddle, weeks living on her horse had not been kind to her backside. She was tired. Strike that. She was bone-weary. Also hungry, her stomach rumbled to remind her. With one more thorough look at the horizon, Emma turned her steed and nodded to the sentry on watch as she passed.

 

She let her horse amble along the wooded path back to the camp, idly letting her mind wander where it wanted.

 

_“Look after her, Emma.” Belle looked at Emma seriously. “This little nugget needs it’s other mother.” Belle smoothed her hands over her stomach. “And Red needs you, so don’t be doing anything stupid.”_

 

Emma laughed quietly at the memory of the softly spoken librarian doing her best to threaten her, before letting herself be gathered up in congratulations. Emma had practically slapped herself at her close-minded idiocy that had caused her momentary confusion. Red was a magical being. Of course the rules of conception were altered. And of course that had led Emma’s mind to Regina.

 

Every fiber of her being missed Regina.

 

She sobered quickly as the patched up tents came into view. She could hear the screams of soldiers in the healers tent. Could smell blood, dirt, metal. Burnt flesh. They couldn’t risk the spread of inevitable disease that came from battlefields of dead. The ever present scent of horses lingered in the background. Emma tightened her hold on the reins in her hands and straightened her back. Her troops looked up to her, and she could see them holding themselves a little bit straighter as she passed and nodded to each and every one of them she passed by.

 

War had not been kind to them all.

 

The forces from the west had been vastly underrated in the reports scouts had sent, and the results left hundreds dead on the numerous battlefields.

 

Determination and honor only carried an army so far.

 

Emma inspected her troops as she continued on to her tent. Equipment, battered, blunted. It all wouldn’t do if there was many more encounters. The soldiers all looked like they could do with a few good feeds and nights of sleep. She could offer neither.

 

Sighing, Emma dismounted and secured the reins of her horse to the post that served the officers of the army, and smiling at the guard posted at the entrance to her tent, she ducked inside, intent on some rest.

 

“How bad is it?” Red lounged on one of the chests that doubled as a chair. She had clearly been asleep on Emma’s map table, her face holding the imprint of a tiny horse.

 

The map table had quickly become obsolete as they had more engagements with the enemy, the kingdoms forces being routed swiftly through surprise attack or sheer overwhelming numbers.

 

Emma sighed again. “It’s bad.” She poured herself a cup of wine. “ There’s another group down by the river but they are laying low right now. I just don’t understand how they just keep coming. How do they know where we are? I would say we have spies in our midst but my gut tells me that isn’t the case.

 

Red nodded. “It could be, but Emma, the wolf isn’t sensing anyone not true of heart. Nobody here is lying - i would know….” She looked at Emma smugly. “Just like i knew you were lying about all those times you were distracted and dancing at the castle.”

 

Emma almost spat out the mouthful of wine she’d taken.

 

“Don’t worry, i’m not mad. I understand your reasons for keeping it quiet.”

 

“Ah. _Belle…_ ”

 

Ruby smiled. “Do you really think my love would keep anything from me?” She shook her head. “Emma your heart wants what it wants and that’s okay. Don’t even deny it-” She warned as Emma opened her mouth. “I can _smell_ it on you.”

 

At that statement Emma’s mouth fell shut once more. Relief seeped in as she realised her nearest, trusted friends were on board with her feelings for Regina.

 

“So, The Evil Queen is your soulmate?” Red prompted.

 

Emma relaxed back into her chair, resting her boots up on a chest. “Red, she’s… important. She’s taught me so much about… well… everything. I miss her. I mean what does soul mate even mean…”

 

“You love her Emma, you know what that means.”

 

“But _does_ it mean that? Does it have to mean true love just because of some fated tie to each other?” Emma chuckled, suddenly a little bitter. “She certainly didn’t think so.”

 

They fell quiet for a moment, before Emma spoke up again.

 

“I asked her to come. I thought we could use her on the battlefield.”

 

Red scoffed. “No wonder she’s not here, if you said you could _use_ her. People are not yours to _use_. And besides - who wouldn’t fall for you Emma - i think the mere fact that she let you stick around so much means that there’s definitely some feeling on her side. Maybe she’s afraid.”

 

“Afraid of what?” Emma asked plaintively.

 

“The stories of Regina are that she was a terror on the battlefield.”

 

“So?” Emma was confused, now.

 

“Emma you are so thick headed sometimes.” Ruby groaned. “I’m a monster when i lose control of the wolf and you know it took a long time for me to be okay with Belle knowing that _and_ accepting that she still loved me.”

 

It dawned on Emma. “You think she’s ashamed of her past?” Red nodded, before bidding her friend goodnight and leaving Emma to her thoughts.

 

Was it possible that Regina didn’t want to lose control - give in to her ‘dark side’ and somehow turn Emma from her? It was possible, Emma supposed, but Emma frankly didn’t have any ill feeling towards Regina’s past. The past was done, and it was people’s actions now that mattered that mattered. Regina never sugar coated her past and her derision for much of the world. She was imperious, arrogant at times, and always brutally honest about having no regard for anyone else.

 

Emma knew Regina was no ‘do-gooder’ as the other woman put it. And that certainly didn’t halt Emma’s burgeoning feelings for her.

 

Everybody had good and bad inside them, and Emma wasn’t her parents. Even she could see that they strived to make things so black and white that no form of duality could exist harmoniously. Emma could see Regina’s good sides, even amongst her darkness.

 

******

 

Something inside Regina was bothered as she sat in front of one of her many mirrors.

 

She missed Emma terribly and she was loathe to admit it… but the thought was free and trampling throughout her mind daily now.

 

She missed the blonde boldly challenging her, joking with her - she missed Emma’s steadfast silence when their conversation turned to solitary activities.

 

She missed the comfort she gained from having the other woman nearby.

 

She missed _dancing._ Emma was better than she thought.

 

Regina scowled as she let these thoughts come and go, knowing full well that she wasn’t going to be able to quash them.

 

She’d spent enough time trying to know it was a futile effort.

 

Instead, Regina turned her efforts outwards, and touched her fingertips to the calm surface of her mirror. It rippled and turned black, before showing her scenes she was very familiar with.

 

Since Regina’s magic only worked on mirrored surfaces that had seen her in person, Regina’s favoured view was from Emma’s right shoulder pauldron. She was greeted with the view of Emma’s sword flying wildly deflecting a mace. Regina braced, instinct telling her to expect impact - but she kept her eyes open, glued to the violent scene she was witnessing. She could hear Emma’s heavy breathing, her curses as she fought her way through the seeming never ending wave of attackers.

 

Regina gasped as something slammed into Emma, knocking her over, and Regina felt her stomach shift as the other woman rolled onto her back to block a cruel axe from splitting her body - sternum to stomach. Suddenly, there was a cry and a brutal scream, and the attacker was torn from view - fur and red and growls flashing past and the world was turned on its head again as Emma righted herself. Regina found herself seeing Emma’s dirty, bloody forearms and hands pushing into the mud as she climbed to her feet.

 

A moment of inaction and Emma looked around, Regina clutching the edge of her dresser with her free hand to ground herself. Death lay everywhere. The screams of the fallen joined the cries of the injured as the final few of the attackers were put down ruthlessly by Emma’s soldiers.

 

A worn, tired looking captain approached Emma. “We’ve cleared this group, but we best retreat as there will no doubt be another wave.”

 

“Aye,” Emma gruffly replied, with a heavy sigh as the man left to gather the troops. Regina could feel her heart tighten at the bone weary way Emma had replied. She’d sounded like something Regina never thought she’d hear in the blondes voice; defeated.

 

Regina quickly tamped down on the tremble in her hand as she took her fingers from the mirror surface. She was sure Emma wouldn’t approve of her spying but at times like these Regina could care less. The blonde was alive, for now, and Regina’s heart was lifted for a few moments, but she knew the danger Emma was in at all times being in an environment such as that. And for a few heartbeats she was sorely tempted to go and end the conflict once and for all. She could do that, after all, remembering the intoxicating power she had at her fingertips - and for a second she was transported to her own battles, impervious to harm on a multitude of battlefields, the scores of screams as she slayed her enemies.

 

But something stayed her hand from following up on the temptation, and that something, was the fear of a certain princess looking at her as though she was a monster.

 

******

 

She spent some days idling over the flight of fancy that had taken root after watching Emma in the mirror. The walls of her castle were her comfort, the deep forest, her home. It had been many years since she had travelled forth. Her self inflicted solitude had been a gift, and for many years of her long life, her pleasure.

 

But the notion of travelling back out into the world kept pestering her, like a particularly obnoxious fly. In time, the fly won, and spurred Regina to action. She clad herself in less conspicuous clothing and with a wave of her hand, travelled to a settlement close to the forest edge.  

 

The smell was the first thing that hit Regina, the scent of horses, people with lower personal hygiene than herself - metal - she realised as she heard the rhythmic clanking of a hammer than she was behind a blacksmith’s workshop. She let herself be drawn out by the noise of the villagers thronging together for a market. Children laughed, dogs barked, and sellers cried their wares.

 

The noise slammed into Regina like a wave. She soaked it up, the chaos and the _life._ Such a difference from her still, cold, calm hallways. A young boy ran past and tripped on her cloak, tumbling to the ground. She crouched to talk to him as he pushed himself onto his hands and knees, one side of his face dusty - but he had a smile that almost split his face top from bottom.

 

“Sorry, miss, i didn’t look where i was going.”

 

Regina felt something withered inside her release a bit as she looked at his messy dark hair and the jubilant energy practically wafting off the boy. He couldn’t have been more than six or seven summers old.

 

“Are you okay, young sir?” She reached out to brush his hair back from his face, and couldn’t help but smile as he didn’t flinch away from her hand.

 

“Oh,” the young lad grinned, patiently letting her make sure he was unhurt, before standing up and brushing his tatty rags off. “I’m fine. I need to go find my friends now.” He took a step away before seeming to remind himself of something. “Blessings to you and your family, miss. Have a good harvest festival.” The boy streaked off into the crowd, and Regina felt an unexplained sense of loss. She shook her head and continued on.

 

“My lady look here, i’ve got the finest apples in the lands.”

 

“Ah, you are just the customer for these ripe peaches.”

 

“Fine wares madam, for you and your family!”

 

Regina let herself be buoyed along by the cries of the merchants, all vying for her attention and her money. It was refreshing, Regina allowed herself to acknowledge, to be out amongst the people. Even if they would’ve recoiled in an instant if they even suspected who she was.

 

A commotion at the far end of the marketplace drew Regina’s attention. Outraged cries preceded a dirty, sly looking man running in her direction whilst cries of ‘thief’ and ‘stop him’ reached her ears.

 

Regina reacted on instinct, disgust at petty thievery causing her to forget herself. She reached out her hand, and swiped the man up off the ground several feet, before letting him fall to the ground. She froze, realising what she had just done.

 

The cries of indignation turned to cries of fear. Witches were feared in this land, with good reason, and Regina could feel each pair of eyes landing on her and her outstretched arm. She quickly pulled it back to her side. The thief picked himself up off the ground, the goods he had stolen forgotten, and he was the first to come at her with a new cry.

 

“She’s a witch!”

 

Regina grit her teeth at the accusatory tone and crushed the urge to just magic herself to comfort and safety - Emma flashed into her mind before she quashed that too - She wasn’t about to be cowed. Not by a rabble. Witches had been prosecuted forever in this realm, the arrogant ruling classes decrying them if they couldn’t be bent to their wills.

 

Many a magic user had gone into obscurity to save themselves since the Charmings had taken back the kingdom.

 

The tension surrounding the marketplace was steadily building, and Regina could feel the crowd’s feeling of fear turn to anger. Calls of ‘witch’ spurred one of the mob to reach forward and pull Regina’s hood back, exposing her to the crowd.

 

They drew back as one, dread clear on everyone’s face. Regina’s palms were sweating as the crowd started to slowly creep forward again and she could hear her pulse in her ears.

 

“Kill the witch!” Shouted an older man with a pitchfork, his teeth broken as his nose was crooked. Regina curled her lip as other’s took up the cries for her head.

 

“Oh,” Regina grinned, all teeth and not friendly at all. The crowd backed off slightly as her eyes glittered. “You have no idea who you are dealing with.” In an instant her hands became fire and people screamed, scattering wildly. Somewhere a child cried for it’s mama.

 

“The Evil Queen!” Someone shouted in the chaos. People tripped over each other as they hurried away from the woman laughing maniacally in the village square.

 

******

 

Emma sat down heavily with a sigh. She wriggled out of her shoulder plates, marvelling at how an arrow had just plain bounced off instead of punching straight through the metal but tossed it to the ground tiredly, giving it no more heed than the luck of the universe.

 

She was exhausted.

 

A servent ducked their head in with a bowl of stew, and Emma took it with a grateful grunt and set about scooping up the insides with the wooden spoon. She was tired. Starving. Dirty.

 

The same with the rest of her soldiers. But she felt like they were still with her, heart and soul. Every day spent with her troops was another day convincing her she’d made the right decision in coming to the war herself to lead. She’d seen how men and women with broken spirits held their heads higher after she’d spent some time with them.

 

Even if there was no seeming end in the violence, Emma felt like she was where she was meant to be.

 

She missed Regina dearly - more than her family back at the castle - and wondered how she was spending her days of quiet solitude. It gave Emma peace to know that at least Regina was safe. Not for the first time, she pondered sending a message to Regina to let her know she was safe for now, but the thought of taking resources from the war for personal gain didn’t sit well.

 

Emma finished her stew, savouring the last chunk of peppery potato, and set the bowl down by the rag she’d taken from an orc. A streak of red ink created a cross with three stars to the side of it. Emma hadn’t studied particularly hard at memorising coats of arms or symbolism, so she wasn’t surprised that she didn’t recognise the emblem. It did fill her with a sense of dread however, and the fact that none of her advisors nor Red recognised it’s harsh strokes either presented a vexing problem.

 

Nonetheless, there was battle; an aggressor, and a defendant. So in the end Emma decided to put the matter to the back of her mind for now. It would do no good to puzzle half the night over unknown things. She yawned, reminding her that she had fought off a battle today, and that she was absolutely bone weary. Emma craved a bath. One of the sumptuous ones that Regina had invited her to have when she’d spent several days at the hidden castle. She’d just clicked her fingers and the deep, intricately decorated tub had been full of steaming water, and Emma had been bundled into the bathing room and told to help herself.

 

But Emma was too damn tired to think about calling for water to bathe with, and instead she stripped down to her under things and nothing else, before falling gracelessly onto her fur covered pallet.

 

She was too tired to examine her feelings over wishing Regina had just damn well come with her - if the stories were true - hell, if Regina’s hubris over how powerful she was was true, then the confusing war could just be over with and life would stop being lost. She reminded herself that no person should be coerced into something tho - she was better than that.

 

She was too tired to even consider drawing a cover over herself, and instead tried not to catalogue the areas of her body that were aching and bruised. She’d sustained a slash on her cheek that Red had tended to after their last altercation - that was starting to sting again. Emma sighed and tried to switch her mind off, and to let sleep take her body for a rest.

 

A vague recollection of Regina’s fine fingers passing through Emma’s hair came to her, much to Emma’s pleasure. She wasn’t sure if it was a dream or a memory. Regina had surely never been so tender when she thought the blonde was awake. A small smile formed on Emma’s lips.

 

Panicked yells erupted outside, drawing a groan from Emma. She pushed herself up off the warm furs and was trying to find a shirt to wear when Red burst through the tent flaps.

 

“Emma, the enemy have found our camp!” She rushed, reaching for Emma’s sword and tossing it to the blonde. “They are here!” Red ran from the tent.

 

Adrenaline wiped the exhaustion from Emma and she threw her mail on haphazardly and grabbed her pauldron whilst running out the tent. She wrestled with the armor, slipping her arm through the straps before throwing it on the ground with frustration. She didn’t have time - she could hear shouts rallying her men to defend the camp, and she had to answer them too.

 

*

 

Regina emerged from the thicket of trees, drawing closer to the battle. She’d gotten impatient with waiting, and had willed herself to wherever Emma Swan was. She lingered in the partial cover of the foliage, observing the combatants, tasting the scent of iron and blood on the air. She searched for her Emma.

 

There! Regina spied Emma, blade flying, streaked with blood - she couldn’t tell if it was Emma’s or not. And like being in a trance - Regina stepped from her cover - drawn towards Emma. Closer, Regina ducked a spear thrown where her head would have been - waved her hand to guide it into the nearest enemies chest.

 

Closer, Emma’s sword smoothly decapitated an orc before she kicked the body away.

 

“Emma,” Regina couldn’t help but call her name. She reached out for the blonde - so close - before someone let loose a blood curdling scream -

 

“The Evil Queen! Emma watch out!”

 

And Regina flinched as Emma’s sword flashed in an arc a mere inch from her eyes - stopping the sword bearing down on Regina’s head.

 

There was a heartbeat of stillness - the battle raging on around them all - and Emma and Regina made eye contact before Emma whirled away, deflecting an arrow.

 

“At ease Phillip, she’s an ally.” Emma grunted, as a wildling rushed her with his broken axe and broken face. Regina saw the dip of Emma’s shoulders as she brought her sword up to meet the weapon and realised -  the other woman was on her last legs.

 

She saw Emma’s leg give way - saw the blonde start to descend to the ground - saw an ogre snarl victoriously and start to lumber its way towards the falling woman. The wildling brought his axe up high to swing down on Emma and she barely managed to turn his blade away as she hit the ground hard, crying out.

 

All around Regina the battle raged and she was transfixed by terror for Emma - Emma couldn’t be hurt - she _could not die._

 

It started like a seed inside Regina, sprouting, growing, flowering - and she closed her eyes for one breath before snapping them open. Purple suffused her vision, and she could feel her feet leaving the ground. Everything slowed down, the shouts of battle taking on twisted tones. The air itself trembled as anger tore through her like a wave - dark raging waves that pulsed and pulsed and grew higher and fiercer. Her hands rose, purple smoke wreathing her fists and coiling up her arms and finally - _finally_ Regina smiled, a terrible, cold smile.

 

Death.

 

It was a pure, single thought. And Regina felt it so acutely and so intimately as she passed by men and women fighting for their lives against beings that had been corrupted by something dark -

 

Not as dark as her though, Regina rejoiced as she waved her arm in a slow arc, watching the life simply _leave_ a group of charging orcs.

 

There was another magic here at work, she tasted it on the air - in the blood of a creature so twisted by the time she was done with it she didn’t know what it was splashing across her face.

 

Paying that interesting fact no further heed at the moment, Regina continued wreaking destruction on the attackers, delighting in their terrified screams and broken bones. She was death itself, dancing across the battlefield, in and out of trees as they scattered. She was silence. She was chaos. She was quick and efficient. She was brutal and murderous.

 

She was all powerful and glorious and protecting what she loved.

 

“Regina -”

 

Emma’s trembling voice cut through the seductive haze like an arrow punched through armour -

 

It was like no time had passed, and Regina was standing where she’d been when Emma had fallen. No enemies remained nearby. The roars of the hordes retreated into the forest - and instead The Evil Queen was surrounded by wary soldiers from a realm that had sworn her into obscurity and defeat.

 

And the princess of that realm who had her fingers hovering an inch from Regina’s cheek.

 

“Regina, you came -” Emma’s blue eyes searched Regina’s, darting between her eyes and all over her vengeful, bloodied body. Emma fingers brushed her cheek, and a want, a _need_ for Emma sprang up so deep and so strong inside Regina that her breath caught.

 

Suddenly Emma whirled away, storming from the clearing whilst yelling one command.

 

“She’s not to be harmed.”

 

The soldiers regarded Regina with some fear and confusion, before some nodded to themselves, seemingly accepting their Princesses command. They started sorting through the chaos that battle left.

 

******

  


“Will you let me heal you?” Regina swallowed down her irritation as a woman with a broken arm flinched away from her touch and she tried not to lose her temper. “I can make you feel better.” The woman nodded once, closing her eyes and tensing so tightly that Regina thought she might break her teeth. She laid her palm on the arm and concentrated. Healing did not come naturally to Regina, and it exhausted her more than other kinds of magic so she took her time.

 

Tentatively, she wandered amongst the wounded, being accepted more readily as the soldiers saw that the spectre of death they’d witnessed flashing around during the fight hadn’t come for their lives.  

 

“Thank you,” one mumbled, pressing his hand to his chest where moments before there was blood oozing out.”

 

More and more, the faces were never ending - and Regina healed bones and knitted flesh and finally, hours later Regina staggered backwards from the last of the injured, completely and utterly exhausted. One of the healers handed her a jug of water, and quiet words of thanks.

 

She stepped out of the healers tent, into the dusky dawn light. Carrion had began their feast on the dead bodies, their raucous caws causing a shiver to travel down her spine.

 

The wolf was waiting for her, her red cloak drawn tight around slim shoulders. Her voice bit at the crisp morning air..

 

“Why did you come?” Red asked with no trace of the fear or wariness that Regina was accustomed to. “She’s been pining for you since we left and you wait til _now_ to come. Until almost all hope is lost.” Red narrowed her eyes. “I don’t care who you are. My idiot best friend has fallen for you, and if you hurt her i will hurt you.”

 

Tired as she was, Regina found her indignation.

 

“How dare you talk-”

 

“Follow me,” Red interrupted Regina, sighing. “I’ll take you to her.”

 

Regina huffed, but willed herself to obey, and followed the other woman through the camp until she was ushered inside a tent with no introduction, and the tent flap was closed from the outside.

 

It took Regina a few moments for her eyes to adjust to the sudden darkness inside, only a few candles illuminating the few pieces of furniture and the woman sitting on the makeshift bed, hunched over with her head in her hands. Emma’s shoulders were shaking.

 

It took Regina a few moments to realise that Emma was crying.

 

It took only a few seconds for her to rush to Emma, lowering to her knees in front of the trembling woman.

 

“Oh -” Regina’s hands hesitated before coming to land on Emma’s thighs lightly. She brushed away the memory of touching the skin underneath, so long ago. “Emma, what is it?”

 

Emma sniffed and sat up, her eyes wet and clear tear tracks down both cheeks. She had stripped her chainmail but otherwise was still covered in dirt and gore from the night before.

 

“Emma, let’s get you clean - Let’s… May I?” Regina asked, and she waited for Emma to tentatively nod before cleaning them both up with a wave of her hand. Emma looked down at her fresh shirt, before blue upon blue eyes flicked back up to meet Regina’s.

 

“You’re here…”

 

And Regina couldn’t have held back tears of relief if she tried -

 

“Oh, Emma. I’m sorry it took me so long.” Regina leant forward, unable to contain the urge to slide her arms around the seated woman.

 

“Oh -” Emma gasped, before parting her legs and pulling Regina tight to her. “You’re here..” She repeated wonderingly. “I can’t believe it. It’s like a dream.”

 

Regina let out a shaky breath and let Emma take over her senses. She could hear Emma’s vital heart beating in her chest. Could feel the warmth of the woman surrounding her. She could smell the clean magic soap scent that she favoured, now slightly different on another body other than her own.

 

Taste - Emma disengaged for a moment to lean back and bring a gentle hand under Regina’s chin to tilt it up. Blue eyes met brown- and Regina’s mind short circuited for a second as Emma pressed her lips hungrily to hers-

 

And Regina was kissing her back, pressing closer, wanting, needing to taste Emma as much as she could.

 

Regina shifted up, pressing Emma back onto the furs of her pallet and Regina settled over her, her voluminous cloak covering their legs. She stroked Emma’s face, marvelling at the fact the blonde was in front of her and thankfully not injured. Her spell had done its job.

 

Emma murmured once more, “You’re here,” stopping Regina from diving back in to sate her craving for Emma’s mouth. Instead she sighed, feeling the tiredness creeping back up on her.

 

“I am.” Regina whispered, resting her forehead against Emma’s.

 

“I thought I would never see you again,” Emma said shakily.. Her arms came up to encircle Regina’s waist, pulling her down to rest against her. “I felt like all was lost.”

 

“I’m here, Emma.”

 

“I’m so tired Regina,” Emma said quietly, as Regina settled her head against Emma’s shoulder.

 

“Shhh, it’s going to be okay, I promise.” And Regina did promise. She promised to herself that no matter her what, she would use all her power to destroy this enemy - not for the sake of this kingdom, but for the sake of Emma. These were her last thoughts as exhaustion finally caught up with her, and so she let her eyes drift shut and fell asleep on top of Emma.

 

**

 

Emma opened her eyes to something that utterly confused her. Who’s hair was that - and why was someone in her bed? She was preparing to pull her arm out from underneath the person's neck and bolt when the brunette sighed and stretched, rolling over to face Emma.

 

Regina sighed comfortably and slept on.

 

Emma’s eyes felt like an owls as she stared and stared and blinked slowly and then her memory caught up with her.

 

The battle - the hopelessness - Regina racing through the enemy and cutting them all down with glee and delight and -

 

Emma had never seen something so deathly beautiful.

 

\- Regina was _here_.

 

Emma couldn’t tear her eyes from the brunette.

 

Somewhere during the night they’d moved from the edge of the bed to lay properly side by side, curled together on the narrow pallet. Regina had divested herself of her cloak and dress and was clad in a linen shirt similar to Emma’s and Emma couldn’t help her eyes dropping to admire the warm skin of Regina’s neck and what she could see of her shoulders and chest.

 

Regina was _real_ and present and Emma’s heart was full of certainty and hope that everything would be okay now that Regina was with her.

 

She had hope again.

 

******

  


“Okay, the playing field has significantly levelled out,” Emma told her captains. She’d gathered a meeting with her officers as soon as she could. “With the arrival of Regina, we have an ally who has turned the tide. The enemy force is effectively defeated, so it falls to us to stand guard to ensure there are no more stragglers, and to help the land rebuild.”

 

Emma could see some of her officers nervously looking at Regina, who reclined in a seat next to Emma.

 

“Pardon me Princess, but why should we trust her word?” someone piped up.

 

“Quite frankly,” Regina smirked, “You shouldn’t.” Mutters broke out in the tent. “I’m only here for the Princess, and since she is on your side - you merely benefit.”

 

Emma tried to hide her smirk, before standing straight, her arms clasped behind her back. “Do you all trust me?” She asked, addressing the gathering and silencing the quiet murmerings. There was a unanimous ‘aye’ from everyone present. “Then trust her. I ask you to. She’s going to do you, us, no harm - hell, she spent hours healing our soldiers or has that slipped your minds already?”

 

Emma let the people present mull that over in their heads, her mind flashing back to waking up in the tent with Regina earlier that day.

 

_They’d been soft, shy almost, with each other. Both suddenly unsure how to act around each other until Regina had spotted the tattered rag Emma had torn from the enemy laying on her table._

 

_“Emma, what’s this?”_

 

_Emma told her where it had come from and Regina’s face lit up_

 

_“I know what’s going on…”_

 

_Emma filled with relief as Regina filled her in -_

 

_“A long time ago, a magic user cast a curse on me - I may have decimated their family,” Regina waved her hand dismissively. ”The contents of the curse never mattered until recently. But the curse was for a mass force to come and decimate my family and my lands if certain conditions were ever to arise…”_

 

_“And what conditions are those, Regina?” Emma looked at Regina, daring to hope._

 

_Regina met her eyes and said slowly, so that Emma wouldn’t miss any part of what she was about to say. “If I was to feel happiness…”_

 

_Emma closed her eyes, feeling herself well up with tears. She opened them and Regina had moved closer and was picking up Emma’s hand to kiss her knuckles._

 

_“You make me happy, Emma.” Regina said tentatively.  “I’ve not felt like this for many, many years.” Regina’s voice quivered, and she looked down at their joined hands. “I spent a long time ignoring the fact that you have taken up residence in my heart. But I can’t ignore that anymore.” Regina hesitated, searching for her next words. “I am not a good person, Emma, and I don’t deserve someone as good as you to want me in their lives. So I would understand if you didn’t want me in your life.”_

 

_Emma reached out to cradle Regina’s face with her hands gently._

 

_“Regina. You make my heart sing.” This time Regina closed her eyes for a moment, scoffing with a smile. Emma continued, stroking a thumb against Regina’s cheek. “I know who you are, Regina. Who you claim to be - and who you are.”_

 

_Regina tensed up, looking at Emma in desperation. She clutched Emma’s forearms. Emma saw the fear on Regina’s face before she continued._

 

_“Even in your darkest moments, I love you. I think I’ve always loved you.”_

 

_Regina’s mouth fell open for a second, speechless._

 

_“I love you too,” she rushed before pushing forward and pressing her mouth against Emma’s - both giddy at the meaning of their words and feeling the a wave of magic bloom and rush through them before flying out with enough force to make the tent flutter. They could hear the wondrous shouts of confusion from outside._

 

_“Well what do you know…” Emma said teasingly. “You know what that was, right?”_

 

_Regina rolled her eyes._

 

_“Yes Princess, I  know what that was… now be quiet and kiss me again._

 

Emma smiled to herself once more, realising that her captains were done mulling and were looking at Regina with a little more reassurance.

 

“Regina says that she felt magic binding the enemy force together - that’s why they were able to attack in such numbers with such organisation - and she believes that the magic is now disbanded. This war isn’t over, but the winning battle has been fought, and now there is clear up to do. But they will be scattered and leaderless. I know is that there is a force out there that still wants to hurt us - but an army is not going to be what gets rid of the threat forevermore.” She paused for dramatic effect. “Regina and I are going to go alone, to find the source of this threat and exterminate it.”

 

Her captains once again rose in outraged disagreement. Emma shushed them with a harsh look.

 

“I am your commander here, and I am asking you to trust me.” She looked to Regina for a moment before turning to face the others again. “I am your princess, I am your leader, and I have fought by your sides time and time again. Trust me.”

 

Ferron, a gruff man twice the age of her father grunted. “Aye princess, we trust you, and we trust your judgement.” The others murmured in agreement.

 

Emma relaxed, letting her fists unclench. “Okay, i’ll draw up assignments and leave the clear up to you all. I wish to be on my way west tomorrow.”

 

She spent some more time talking to the captains, confident that they would carry out her orders, and when she surfaced she realised Regina was gone from the seat behind her.

 

Emma immediately returned to her tent and found Regina and Red regarding each other tensely from opposite sides of the canvas structure. She immediately poured three flagons of wine.

 

“I will not have you two at odds. I will not stand for it.”

 

Red narrowed her eyes at Regina for a second longer before rising and grabbing some wine. “You will have no problem from me, witch, as long as you don’t harm a hair on her head.”

 

“I give you my word,” Regina said through clenched teeth, “wolf.” She accepted the flagon Emma held out for her and swiftly took a mouthful, her eyes lingering on Ruby a for a moment longer as she swallowed.

 

Emma tried to hide her smirk and in the end just gave up. “Red, I want you to return to the castle, you need to convince my parents not to send out a force after us.”

 

Regina laughed, whilst sitting down on Emma’s bed. “Let them try.”

 

“ _Not_ helping.” Emma rolled her eyes.”Red, you felt the magic this morning?”

 

Red nodded, pouting but holding her words.

 

“You know what it means?” Emma urged.

 

“Yes I know Emma, “Red said quietly. “Though I don’t have to like it,” she eyed Regina once more. “I respect it. And I guess this means this is definitely not a plot to lure you away and kill you.”

 

Emma shared a look of amusement with Regina before turning back to her friend. “You know what to do. Just tell them I need to end the threat and that they have to believe in second chances and my judge of character. The hows and whys I will deal with when we return.”

 

Red didn’t look happy about it, but she nodded, and moved forward to throw her arms around Emma. “Be safe my friend, be safe,” she whispered, all the while meeting Regina’s eyes until the seated woman nodded resolutely to Red.

 

**

 

“Are you ready for this?” Emma looked out at the horizon before turning her neck to look at the woman on horseback beside her. Their saddlebags were loaded with supplies, bedrolls, and Emma had her weaponry strapped to the saddle beside her legs.

 

They were as ready to travel as they could ever be.

 

Regina smiled mysteriously as she in turn took in Emma, her blonde hair blowing majestically in the light breeze. They had ridden some way from the camp, coming to the edge of a hill that gave them a beautiful vista over the west lands as the sun started to come up behind them.

 

“Yes, I believe I am,” Regina replied as she urged her horse down the dirt road towards her future.

  
  


The End (of the beginning)


End file.
